The Death Games
by SoSaysL
Summary: All our favorite characters are thrown into the world of the Hunger Games. What results? Chaos, drama, and unexpected hilarity. Starring Ahiru as our brave heroine, Mytho as a fearless cake-decorator, Fakir as an awesome knight, Lillie as a sadistic, cheery announcer, and Femio, who parades around with a stampede of bulls.
1. Ch 1: The Death Games

Introducing: a humorous version of the Hunger Games. Got ideas for who to cast as tributes? You should definitely leave a review.

**Chapter 1: The Death Games**

"Guess what?" Uzura asked. "Reapings are today, zura. That's bad, isn't it, zura?"

"It is bad." Ahiru said, yawning as she stretched in her bed. "But there's no chance they'll pick you. Your name's only been in there once. Well, they might pick you anyway. But I wouldn't bet on it."

Her younger sister blinked her wide eyes and smiled. "There is one part that I like."

"What?" Ahiru asked curiously.

"I get to see who's lovey-dovey, zura." Uzura answered. "You can always tell."

"I see." Ahiru said, swinging her legs out of bed with her usual enthusiasm despite the grim day before her. "I've got to go," she said, giving Uzura an affectionate pat on the head. "I'll see you later."

She dressed quickly in unnoticeable, green-and-brown clothes. As much as she loved wearing bright yellow and white, that wasn't really the best outfit to wear when planning illegal activities.

Ahiru ran to her familiar fence, ducked under easily, and took soft steps through the grassy woods. After a while, she came to a clearing, where a familiar boy was perched on a log.

"Hi there!" Ahiru said, sitting down next to him. "How are ya?"

"Fine." Mytho said. "Bamboo can grow up to three feet in twenty-four hours."

Silence.

Tension hovered in the air as Ahiru tried to figure out how to bring up the Reaping, and the unnervingly high likelihood that she-or he-would be chosen. "Ah..." Ahiru shifted her weight before finally blurting, "The Games are stupid, aren't they?"

"Did you know that bone is five times stronger than steel?" Mytho asked.

"That's pretty cool!" Ahiru nodded.

"And the Games are stupid." Mytho added. "You know where I'd like to live? Districts 1 and 2. Practically everyone wants to be a tribute, so even if you do get selected, you just wait for someone to volunteer for you."

"If you get selected here..." Ahiru chuckled, "you can practically hear the crickets chirping when they call for volunteers. Do you want to go look for berries or something?"

"Sure." Mytho replied contentedly. "It's not really like I ever learned how to hunt, so..."

Ahiru shuddered. The thought of killing another human being or animal was thoroughly repulsive to her. Ahiru might not have known how to hunt, but she did possess an extensive knowledge of edible plants and berries, just like Mytho."Not that I'd want to hunt, anyway. Let's go find some plants!"

"Yay! Oh, Ahiru, can you do that trick again? The one where you, like, look like a flying squirrel?"

"Sure!" Like a monkey, Ahiru scrambled up the nearest tree and proceeded to leap from tree to tree. "It's too bad you can't!" She called cheerily. "There's lots of interesting stuff up here!"

While Mytho was busy gathering berries and plants to eat, Ahiru made friends with the birds she found among the trees. "Hi there!" She said, and the birds clustered around her, hiding her from view. "Hey! That tickles!"

"Ahiru? You done yet? You should probably get ready for the Reaping?"

"Wait, the Reaping?" Ahiru murmured to herself. "Oh, snap!"

"Also, did you know that if you ate too many carrots, you'd turn orange?" Mytho asked from below.

"No, I didn't." Ahiru landed lightly on the ground with a circle of twigs and leaves in her hair. Mytho gently dusted them away. "Be careful, Ahiru. You wouldn't want to get caught, would you?"

"Right." Ahiru said. "Of course I wouldn't want to be caught. I want to live!"

* * *

"Uzura Arima!" The scary blonde announcer said loudly.

For a moment the air was frozen as Ahiru tried to breathe. She saw the woman's gaze fasten on her sister, standing next to her.

Uzura turned to Ahiru with a devilish smile. "I volunteer as tribute!" Ahiru's eyes widened, for the words hadn't come from her mouth. Uzura gave her a childish hug, and then tilted her head brightly. "Thank you, sis!"

"I didn't say that!" Ahiru protested, as armored guards roughly grabbed her by the upper arms and dragged her to the podium. "Wait. I didn't..wait, what?"

"All right! Who volunteered as tribute? Is this her older sister? Your name?"

Ahiru looked indignantly at Uzura, who gave her a small wave. _Thanks, little sis, for sending me to the Death Games. _Ahiru shook her head and folded her arms, but answered the announcer. "Ahiru Arima."

"All right!" The woman seemed _way_ too cheery to be conducting a lottery where the winners had a survival rate of near 0%.

_I will get you for this_, Ahiru mouthed at Uzura.

_Doubt it_, Uzura mouthed back smugly. Ahiru realized that Uzura was right; the odds were that Ahiru wouldn't survive the week.

"Now let's select the male tribute!"


	2. Ch 2: Miss Anteaterina Anteater

**Chapter 2: Miss Anteaterina Anteater**

"I have _no_ idea how to kill anybody." Pique muttered to her friend standing beside her. "I sure hope I don't get chosen. That would be really, really bad."

"Well, I hope you get chosen. Then I won't be."

"Hey!" Pique said crossly, but she was interrupted by the sound of the scary announcer calling out,

"PIQUE BROWN!"

"Oh, great."

* * *

"Ya know what?" Autor said proudly, pushing up his glasses as he spoke. "Those tributes from previous years were all so stupid. No one figured it out, or came even close. You don't have to be that strong to win. If you're smart, then you will be triumphant every time. If I was selected for that awful Death Games stuff, which will obviously never happen-"

"AUTOR FARADAY!"

"Damn. Some part of me knew that was coming."

* * *

"OKAY!" The announcer said, hands on her hips. "Who was the clever one who decided to put _this_ in the drawing bowl? TELL ME!" Her voice rose. "I'm not stupid. I know there's someone who did it."

The crowd remained silent.

"_Miss Anteaterina Anteater. _Don't tell me that there's actually an anteater entered into the drawing." She huffed. "An anteater. Very mature, guys."

"Wait! Don't say that!" A girl came forward, holding a docile but huge anteater in her arms. "You'll hurt her feelings!"

"Anteaters don't have feelings." The announcer snapped.

A single tear trickled from the anteater's eye.

"Okay, fine, maybe they do." The announcer brightened. "That means... we should enter an anteater into the games! It will be a beautiful illustration of the tragedy of fate...if you're an anteater, and you're picked for the Games...there's nothing you can do about it! How lovely! She can't even speak!"

Resignedly, the anteater walked to the stage.

"It's so tragic!" The announcer squealed. "Nice to meet you! My name is Lillie!"

* * *

"And the male tribute is...FAKIR WINSTON!"

"Any volunteers? ...No?...Well, come on up, Fakir!"

A grumpy, dark-haired teenager made his way to the podium, his arms folded reluctantly.

"Well, you certainly look unhappy!" Lillie said somewhat sympathetically. "Too bad you're most likely to die within a week! Forget that, it's almost guaranteed! Don't worry, it'll take at least a full week before people forget your name. Be sure to smile for the cameras while you're dying!"

Fakir simply gave her a glare that clearly showed that he was not impressed.

* * *

_Back to Ahiru's POV_

"JOE SMITH!" The announcer called, and the crowds parted to reveal a timid-looking boy who looked as if he was on the verge of devastating tears. The ominous expression of grim happiness on her face would haunt Ahiru's nightmares for weeks to come.

"Anyone wish to volunteer as tribute?" The lady tapped her manicured fingers on the microphone, and in the air rang a dead silence.

"I SHALL VOLUNTEER AS TRIBUTE!" A vibrant male voice answered. "FEAR NOT, FOR IT IS I TO THE RESCUE!" An enthusiastic young man ran to the podium with a series of extravagant ballet leaps.

"WHAT?" Ahiru blurted.

Even the announcer seemed a little taken aback. "You? And who would you be?"

"I am Femio Charles Lionel Fabien the Fifth!" He announced grandly. "And I shall win this grand bullfighting competition! OLE!" He shot a glance at Ahiru. "Pardon me, _ma cherie,_ but you do not have a chance against my EPIC skills as a matador. You might as well drop out now."

"So you think this is a bullfighting competition." Ahiru said dubiously. "Right."

"How lovely!" The announcer said, flipping her blonde curls and smiling cheerily. "We have our tributes this year! Ari Rima, and Fabio the Fourth! Please join me in a round of applause!"

No one clapped, but she didn't seem to mind.

"It's _Ahiru_," Ahiru muttered through gritted teeth.

"Mademoiselle, let us be civil to one another. It is in the bullfighting competition that we will fight." Femio said nonchalantly. "I am pleased to make your acquaintance. But let it be known...as a matador, I have no mercy."

Ahiru could see Uzura laughing hysterically even as the guards propelled Ahiru and Femio away from the crowd.

* * *

"I really want to be a part of the Games." Mytho said to the announcer.

"Of course I can add you as an extra tribute!" She exclaimed, clapping her hands together gaily.

"No! No!" Mytho said hurriedly. "I do want to be a part of it. I just don't want to die."

"Hm..." The blonde lady thought. "I know." Her voice dropped to a confidential whisper. "I'll let you be a sponsor!"

"What's that?"

"Pretty much, you get to send gifts to the tributes to show your support! Only...you have to have money."

"Uh..."

"Well, what were you thinking of doing?"

"Confusing them with many, many cryptic messages." Mytho said proudly. "Nobody will really know what's going on when some random tribute gets a pink flamingo statue wrapped in white ribbon."

"That's brilliant!" Lillie exclaimed. "I'm not really supposed to, but...Who cares? Of course I'll help you! You know what? We can even work together!"

"Great!"

"It'll be a riot! Flamingos dropping from the sky, left and right, and...ooh, I have another marvelous idea!"

**[a/n] What can come of a scheme concocted by Lillie and Mytho? Nothing good, certainly.**


	3. Ch 3: A Poorly Performed Tango

**Chapter 3: A Poorly Performed Tango**

"Buenos dias, mademoiselle," Femio said grandly. Ahiru wished she could ignore him; she would much rather watch the villages as they swept by in a blur out the window of their train. Nevertheless, Femio continued. "Let us become further acquainted. Tell me about yourself."

"Hang on," Ahiru turned around to study him carefully. "Are you...Spanish? Or French? Because I'm pretty sure the first part was in Spanish, and the next part was in French."

"Lorem ipsum dolor sit amet!" Femio proclaimed. "It is futile to guess my nationality, for I shall forever remain an enigma!"

"...okay, now you're Latin. Where did you learn that phrase?"

"It is clear what the phrase means." An odd voice answered, and the two looked up to see a middle-aged man in a green shirt smiling at them. "Before I enlighten you both, let me introduce myself. I am the previous winner of the Death Games. You may call me Mr. Cat, as I have been dubbed due to my stealth and grace in the dancing rounds! To me it is clear that the phrase states...MARRIAGE is the highest happiness that has ever been discovered!"

Ahiru and Femio stared at him in stunned silence.

"Now," Mr. Cat said calmly, "would you like me to provide useful advice regarding the Death Games?"

"Uh, I think it involves dancing-" Ahiru began, but Femio stood from his seat furiously.

"How dare you!" He aimed an accusing finger directly at the baffled Ahiru. "Identifying the glorious sport of bullfighting as a mere _dance_! Señorita, I was beginning to find your presence bearable, but now _this_? Take that statement back _at once!_"

"The young lady is correct," Mr. Cat said, earning a glowering look from Femio. "What do the Games involve? Well, it's simple, really. You are all deposited in an Arena. There will be heart shards hidden, at first easy to find. At most two players can share a heart shard. Make sure that you are in physical contact with a heart shard once the specified time elapses."

"Wait!" Ahiru cried. "Where's the dancing? And isn't this called the Death Games?"

"At the end of each round, those who have not found a heart shard are immediately out of the game." Mr. Cat said matter-of-factly. "If you have found a heart shard for yourself only, you face no competition and move on to the next round. If you have shared a heart shard, you must compete with that person."

"How?" Ahiru asked, listening carefullly.

"Through dance. Each heart shard has been assigned an emotion. At the end of each hour, all the players gather in the center of the Arena, and those who must will perform a dance to express the emotion of the heart shard they have found. The one who best expresses that emotion stays in the game. And so this process continues until only one is left. You may not choose the same heart shard twice."

"But where's the glory?" Femio asked desperately. "Isn't bullfighting a part of this?"

"Psh, not even close," Mr. Cat guffawed. "But if you're looking for blood, this can also provide the perfect opportunity. The losers of the dance battle of each round have one last chance...they are all dropped in a mass free-for-all fight against each other. The last survivor is allowed to continue. Only one condition: you must be _dancing_ at all times during the battle. Not running. Good?"

"I'm going to be the first to drop out," Ahiru groaned. "I can't even dance without tripping over the floor, let alone win in a dance battle! How is this going to work?"

Ignoring her completely, Mr. Cat leaned forward with a confidential smile. "I even persuaded the Gamemakers to add a little extra something this year! Let me tell you, MARRIAGE and LOVE will be a real possibility, and perhaps the Gamemakers will become matchmakers!"

"Can't you help us?" Ahiru asked. "Send us something, like a teleporter? Or maybe a tank?"

"I can send you a copy of _Dancing for Dummies,_ maybe," Mr. Cat said. "If I'm feeling generous. I know people can send you gifts, but I can't really remember the rules right now. Oh!" He suddenly brightened. "Do either of you have formal dance training?"

"I am a matador!" Femio retorted. "Dancing should not be much trouble for me!"

"Ah...um..." Ahiru looked down. "I took ballet classes until when I was thirteen. Then my teacher forbade me from coming to class."

"Why?" Mr. Cat prompted.

"Because...I was so terrible." Ahiru's cheeks burned. "Sorry," she murmured, almost inaudibly.

"No matter!" Mr. Cat clapped merrily. "We will practice!"

"What?" His two students said in unison.

"Let's begin to learn the beautiful art of dance! You will sorely need this practice, I tell you! Here we go..."

Five minutes later, Ahiru had discovered two things: one, that she was not and could never be suited to the tango, and two, that however hard she tried, she could not stop stepping on her partner's feet.

"Ah, sorry!" Ahiru leapt backwards as if she had stepped on a hot plate, flailed her arms wildly, and finally cast an embarrassed look at Mr. Cat.

Femio was not amused. "I am telling you, mademoiselle, that you must in the very least _attempt_ to move gracefully."

In a fit of childishness, Ahiru scowled. "Hey! You're not such a great dancer either!"

Even though Femio had not been formally trained, he was undoubtedly the most theatrical person she had ever met. Attempting to prove her wrong, Femio grandly gestured towards the window and performed a neat series of steps and twirled. "Your turn, señorita."

"In case you did not understand," Mr. Cat said to Ahiru, "it seems I must show you again." Ahiru grudgingly allowed herself to be dragged towards Femio and put 'in the proper position for the tango.'

"Now step! Like this! And this!" Mr. Cat seemed to be getting carried away in the moment... way too much for Ahiru's liking.

"I'm trying!" Ahiru snapped, running out of breath.

"Obviously not," Femio sniffed.

"I heard that!"

"Why won't you quit stepping on my feet!"

"Ah, I'M REALLY SORRY!"

"Step backwards, not forwards, Ahiru," Mr. Cat interjected nervously.

"I said, I'M TRYING!" Ahiru huffed.

"Why are you windmilling your arms again?" Femio demanded, exasperated.

"Because...I'm..." One of Ahiru's arms hit a decorative sculpture of a swan and sent it flying. Ahiru's foot slid beneath her, and she desperately flailed about for something to grab before landing in a confused heap on the floor just as the sculpture...

...landed safely on the ground because it was made of plastic.

"Er, perhaps we should try another type of dance," Mr. Cat said, seeming a little put-out as he hurriedly backed away. Ahiru heard him whisper under his breath, "Salsa dancing, ballroom dancing, ballet pas de deux, folk dancing...oh, yes! Belly dancing..."

"Did you know that tango was the first couple dance in Europe to include improvisation?"

A brief silence followed during which Ahiru looked around wildly.

"Mytho?"

Finally, Ahiru saw her best friend standing in the doorway and leapt up. "Mytho? What are _you_ doing here?"

"Hi." He seemed as emotionless as ever save for a small smile.

"How did he get here?" Femio asked, seeming slightly creeped out.

"I let him come!" The announcer woman, Lillie, giggled as she stepped out from behind him. "We have plans for you all, Mytho and and I! I barely contained my laughter at your wondrous tango, by the way! Good luck!" And with that, the two disappeared.

**[a/n] **I hope you enjoyed! Tango might not be the best dance for Ahiru, that's for sure...


End file.
